Freckle Minded

It is so good to be here, in this moment. Just here. I have descended into the pitch-quiet cavern under the blanket. This is not a location on the map. There are no lanterns here. I do not need to go rock climbing right now.

Everything is in total collapse in the world, held together by pockets of collapse. The funny thing is, there’s a lot of heart invisibly coursing through the collapse. Blooming through the bloodlust whimper. The heart-expanse brings warmth amidst the din of terror in peculiar containers. It’s less, the impact of such an expanse, if you look at it mathematically. The algorithm supply of effect/impact is the collective psyche undressing itself.

Active prayer is human beings and nature being brightly alive. Antennae shooting out of our scalp sideways. So much beauty in the humdrum of a fraction of time slips. Tomorrow isn’t going to be. The fuss is futile after. Last night I looked at an open wound, and I fell into it while walking. The pit was ten thousand metres deep. Somehow, I didn’t climb up. I leaped. Like a deer, I felt so in love with everything in the now. I looked at the wound, and it felt like a freckle on my atlas skin. Gently caressed its turbulent chime. A tiny dot in the expanse of everything. Everything, not as a measure, but in principle. The moment when I see myself not as a person, but a state of awareness. A field that trickles through form, this form. I am here. What a freakish freckle of serendipity.

I want to become myself over and over again.

Form.less